Coming Home

Under the covers, I make a tent
It’s my world that I invent
Without you near me, no adventure
I want you to be home

Under the table, noboady’s there
Under the ceiling, under the stairs
A funny feeling, my head is sleeping
I want you to be home

In the morning
I’m waiting for you
To come back home
~ Chappo: Come Home

We are finally in the countdown. You texted me from your post-customs containment area last night, and you had a flight path in hand. Your bags were being loaded. You are coming home.

“Without you near me, no adventure.” I couldn’t have said that any better. I’ve been living each day as wonderfully as I can, but there has been something and someone missing. You are coming home.

You told me recently that you are focused on this next chapter. The beginning is here and there is love in your heart. You are coming home.

where are you?
where are you?
where are you?
where are you?

You’ve spent the last week living in a transit tent with hundreds of your new closest friends. You’ve been delayed and shuffled and unprioritized. You’ve stood outside in 12 degree weather with no winter coat, just so you could hear my voice. You never complained to me. You are coming home.

I’ve spent the last week packing and moving and lifting and fighting. I’d do it all over again. And again. And again. It means I am here. You are coming home.

Take everything, my ipod
Take my keys, take my flare, take it all
Take my shoes, I’m riding solo

My memories, take all my photos
Take my clothes, take my clothes, my tight blue jeans

Take everything
Take everything

I’ve completely upset my life this past week. I packed things up, I threw things out, I stuffed others in storage. I realized I have too much and it all means too little. You are coming home.

Your world is about to be overturned. There is a woman and a dog living in your space. There are new things and new patterns and emotions that are not your own. You are coming home.

I have kept it together pretty well these past 4 months. You should expect that to not be the case tomorrow. My strength will no longer be in holding it together; my strength will be in holding you tight. You are coming home.

In the morning
I’m waiting for you
To come back home